Announcement of My Future
by Jon'ic Recheio
Summary: Did the sacrifice mean nothing to everyone? Or was there a single soul in the vastness of the universe who cared that they were the reason the small spark of life still persisted in every darkened corner of space.


With time came pain. He'd learned that long ago, when he could delude himself into thinking he was young, naive. Now, though, there was nothing to hide the agonizing truth from his heart. He was old, and there was pain that could never be healed, or forgotten. The world had changed so much, even in his knowing of it. He couldn't understand the workings, the people, any longer. It was all a mystery, all of them were. Save one. The one who was stuck in the pain with him, trapped in the wholesome past as he was. They were the only ones who understood, who saw the fading echoes of mortality on the last dying embers of humanity.

They had been the ones to save the world, to watch it grow and change because of their unfailing devotion to a higher ideal, to something that couldn't truly be defined. The reward for their service had been far less promising than the acts themselves. They were old and alone, never to see the faces of the ones they had fought for ever again. It was all gone, all of it. The little town in the middle of nowhere, the tall skyscraper building that had been a house of destruction, rather than the creation it had been transformed into. 

They'd done good, to be sure. But what of them? What of their reward for the hundreds of years spent in service to the greater ideals of the age? Did the sacrifice mean nothing to everyone? Or was there a single soul in the vastness of the universe who cared that they were the reason the small spark of life still persisted in every darkened corner of space. This was their creation, their doing, and no one but them knew of it any longer. The stories of the heroes had long since passed into legend and had been forgotten, save for that obscure legend. 

Did it really all come down to this? To this emptiness? To this clawing loneliness that would swallow his being whole? Is this all anyone with more than one hundred years had to look forward too? A lost heartache that bored holes into your soul until nothing was left but a broken outline? He didn't know, didn't understand, and thought that he honestly never would. Answers like that only came when you were dead, or so they say. He was dead, yet the answers still eluded him, like a morning fog in the tropics.

"Broodin' don't suit your image no more, Peaches." An amused, familiar voice broke through the depressing thoughts that had been plaguing him lately. 

"Can't help it, Spike." He answered with a soft snort of bemusement. He smiled over at Spike. "And, besides, what do I have to brood about these days? I'm a good lookin' pirate sailin'--well flyin'--into the sunset without a care in the world." 

"Pirate you ain't." Spike answered, his amusement growing. He gave Angel a patronizing look. "But, I'll let you think whatever ya want, mate. So long as it makes you happy, yeah?"

"Sure." Angel's smile widened and became genuine. He sighed and shook his head. "I just can't help thinkin' sometimes though, what would life be like if we weren't here? Would it be any different now? I mean, honestly, two smugglers, who happen to be vampires, roamin' the vast reaches of space doin' absolutely nothin' can't amount for much in the grand scheme of the universe anymore."

Spike shared in Angel's sardonic chuckle. "Yeah, I get ya, Angel. But, truthfully, do you really not want to be here? Look around you, this place is amazin'. It's everythin' we ever dreamed it would be and more! How could you not want to be here?"

"I miss them." Angel answered frankly, eyes fixed on the glowing white lines of the stars they were flying by. Some days, he could hardly grasp the enormity of how long he had been alive, of how much their little world had grown and changed into what it was now. 

"Me too." Spike answered quietly, slumping in the co-pilot's seat. He crossed his arms across his chest. Even after two-hundred and fifty years, he still had his old leather duster. Admittedly, it had been altered to withstand the tests of time, but it was still the original model. "Wonder what it would be like if they were here, too. Hell, I wish they were every bloody day, but that'll never happen."

"I know." Angel adjusted the auto-pilot settings, keeping their course in the vast expanse of darkness that was now more of an ocean. At least, that's how everyone thought of it. And now, the oceans had become the neighborhood lake. Everything had changed. 

"Sod all, now you've got _me_ broodin'!" Spike exclaimed, glaring at Angel with mock outrage. 

"Yes, I'm a horrible, horrible man. Someone, hang me from the gallows, before I corrupt another innocent soul!" Angel returned with a smirk and a playful glint in his brown eyes. 

Spike grinned and laughed, nudging Angel with his elbow. It still amazed him that, even after all of these years, he and Angel still remained friends, together 'til the end, just like they had promised in that alley centuries ago. He couldn't wrap his head around it now; he couldn't remember what it had been like without the poof there for company. It all sort of blurred in his mind, and he didn't care at all. It was better that way. If he couldn't remember the endless minutia of crap, then it didn't hurt all that much when he thought about everyone else. 

"Poof." Spike teased, genuine affection bleeding into his voice. He focused his still bright blue eyes back out into space. "So, where are we headed next? More helpless to help, yeah?"

"There's a never endin' stream of sheep to save, Spike." Angel told him; only a trace of the boredom that thought brought leaking into his voice. Saving innocents had gotten old decades ago. But, they still plodded on, determined to make a difference in the universal balance. What else could they do?

"We could always deliver illegal goods again." Spike suggested causally, picking at his nails. 

Angel rolled his eyes skyward. "Oh, yes, and that worked out _so_ well last time, really."

"Well, it sure paid better!" Spike argued back, though he really didn't mean it. He was just as leery as Angel to get back into the _real_ smuggling business. Nowadays, they just ferried people too poor to get places any way else. 

"You don't believe that anymore than I do." Angel told him, calling out his bluff. 

"You're right, I don't." Spike admitted bluntly. He smirked over at Angel. "Still, ya gotta admit, it got the old undead blood pumpin', yeah?"

Angel laughed, his eyes shining with a light that hadn't been there in a long time. "Yeah, yeah it did, didn't it?"

"Damn straight."


End file.
